


new beginnings

by MavenMorozova



Category: Il fantasma dell'opera | The Phantom of the Opera (1998), Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Denial of Feelings, Feelings, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, One Shot, Post-Canon, mentions of e/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:41:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24589993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MavenMorozova/pseuds/MavenMorozova
Summary: After Nadir saves Raoul from Erik's plots, they share a moment of tenderness together, in which they wonder how they truly feel for each other.
Relationships: Raoul de Chagny/The Persian
Comments: 12
Kudos: 14





	new beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was written for @littlelonghairedoutlaw's POTO rarepair fest on Tumblr!
> 
> it's also written for @hogwartsonline June OWLs: dialogue prompts: "I think I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
> 
> enjoy!

Raoul de Chagny was sopping wet. He was flailing desperately, trying to hold himself above the ocean’s waves, but he couldn’t help sinking deeper, finally succumbing to the current.

No, it was much too dark for Raoul to be swimming--or trying to--in the ocean. It was unnaturally dark, walls pressing in around him, the torchlights along the wall extinguished. His shoes had come off in the frenzy of floodwater, and his toes now brushed the stone floor of the dark passageway.

He tried to remember where he was. He’s been with another man, the former police chief in Persia, the Daroga...Nadir was his name. Nadir Khan. Right, of course. They’d been trapped in the middle of a jungle, the animals closing in on them as they died of thirst and heat...no, not a jungle. What had Nadir said?

It had been a trap. A  _ torture chamber, _ Nadir had called it. A hexagonal room of mirrors, holding only one artificial tree. Raoul had wanted to end the pain so badly, been so close… He’d reached for the red noose that hung by the tree, his hand only stopped by Nadir’s firm grip.

“Don’t give in!” the Daroga had nearly shouted at him, pawing at the ground--no, the floor--with his palms, hyperventilating in the stifling heat as he searched for a way out.

Raoul didn’t remember the rest. All he could recall was that he hadn’t been enough in his right mind to truly do anything. And, he did feel a tad bit guilty... But none of these thoughts lingered for too long in his mind now.

He remembered a scorpion and a grasshopper...he remembered a blonde-haired woman-- _ his Christine! _ \--and he remembered her choice as well.

Christine had turned the scorpion, sealing her fate as the Phantom’s bride. Raoul shuddered to think of that horrid man. And yet--why was the cellar flooding? Ah, yes. That is where he was: under the foundations of the Paris Opera House.

The pieces of Raoul’s memory slowly came back to him, much unlike the water that threatened to drown him. “ _ Monsieur Daroga _ !” Raoul screamed over the pounding of waves thrashing against the cellar walls. “NADIR!”

“Monsieur de Chagny!” the Persian called in return, and Raoul saw with a slight flutter of his heart that a brown hand was waving frantically at him from a few metres down the corridor. “Let the water take you this way, monsieur! Going against the tide--you will only tire yourself from too much exertion!”

Raoul was too exhausted to do anything than what Nadir told him. He reluctantly relaxed his muscles and let the current take him in Nadir’s direction, filling his chest with large gulps of air to keep himself afloat.

***

The next thing he knew, Raoul was laying on a fine feathered bed, the curtains hanging on each of its four posters drawn around him. He heard the warm crackling of a fire in the grate, and with a heavily bandaged hand, parted the curtain to reveal Nadir Khan sitting in the corner, his head leaning against the wall and his mouth slightly parted as he snored.

Raoul felt something in his chest give a little leap of happiness and gratitude. Nadir had been there all night--or day, whatever the time was, and he’d fallen asleep making sure that Raoul was safe and unharmed. What was more, they barely knew each other.

He pushed back the blankets and slid his feet off the side of the bed, walking over to Nadir cautiously and giving the man a gently shake. Nadir’s eyes opened slowly, though he gave a start when he saw Raoul leaning over him.

“You are supposed to be resting, monsieur!” the Daroga exclaimed, wringing his hands and standing. He pushed Raoul slightly back towards the direction of the bed. “Erik will have my head for this!”

Raoul bristled at the name of the Phantom, flopping onto the mattress with a groan. Nadir sat down beside him, his hand resting on Raoul’s back. “I know that you hate him,” Nadir began. “But Erik and I have had a long history together. No, not like that,” he added when he saw Raoul’s mutinous expression. “We were very good friends. I helped him escape Persia when I was Daroga. I was almost killed for it...I was lucky to only lose my position.”

“But had he ever done anything for you?” Raoul asked harshly. “Has he now, both of you living in Paris?”

Nadir looked at him intently, taking in a deep breath and chewing on the inside of his cheek. “He made me feel like I had a life worth living for. And we were bosom friends for many years.”

Raoul nodded, closing his eyes and trying to push the image of the Persian and the Phantom from his mind. Or rather, he supposed he ought to refer to the man as Erik--he  _ was  _ a man, after all, not a spectre. And  _ with  _ Erik…

“Christine!” Raoul suddenly shouted, his eyes flying open. He stumbled to his feet again, making a rush for the door, but Nadir grabbed his arm, holding him back. “She made her choice!” Nadir hissed at him, spinning Raoul around so that they faced each other. His words sounded unsettlingly like Erik’s when he’d spoken similar words in his lair, and his tone was not unlike Raoul’s when Nadir had mentioned his relationship with Erik: envious, angry, lonely.

Raoul realized in that moment that they were standing far too close; their hips were nearly touching, and their faces were barely a few millimetres apart. He stepped back quickly, Nadir’s grip loosening from his arm. His breaths were coming shallowly, and he wondered to himself in a fleeting occurrence why he had never felt this way around Christine.

As if sensing his thoughts, Nadir raised his eyebrows and closed the distance between them again, his hand wrapping around Raoul’s. “What do you feel for Mademoiselle Daaé?”

“I--” Raoul began. He honestly was not sure how he felt. He’d certainly known Christine for the longest, well, really the earliest...Erik had known her for quite a while now. And she had a new life...one without him. But did Raoul even care? He certainly felt a connection to Christine, an affection for the young soprano, a kinship…

Ah, yes. A kinship. Did he really feel for her anything more than those affections that one would hold for a sister? And if so…where did he stand with the man in front of him?

“Thank you for saving me,” Raoul finally said to Nadir, his uninjured hand falling on the Persian’s shoulder. “And...thank you for staying at my sickbed.”

“You still need more rest,” Nadir replied with a raised eyebrow. “You experienced a concussion, and your hand is cut rather badly.” His lips parted slightly, and Raoul found his eyes drawn to them as if he was in a trance.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Nadir said at last. Raoul blinked several times, forgetting in his haze what the man had asked.

“Which was…?”

“I asked you how you feel in relation to Christine Daaé. Your fiancé?”

Raoul felt his face try on a few different expressions before finally settling on one of complete stoicism. He decided to speak the truth; Nadir at least deserved  _ that  _ after what he had done for Raoul. “Miss Daaé...I thought I loved her, and she, me,” Raoul said. “But it is clear to me now that we both had been lying to ourselves, as well as each other, for we both are in love with someone else.” He slowly met Nadir’s eyes again, unsure of what be would find there. To his utter surprise, the Daroga was smiling, and that soon turned from a small chuckle to loud laughter.

“You love me?” Nadir repeated, wearing an incredulous expression on his dark countenance.

“How presumptuous,” Raoul sniffed. “I said nothing of the sort.”

“But that was your meaning, monsieur,” Nadir replied softly. “Haven’t we met a little too soon for you to make such grand proclamations?”

He was right, and what Raoul felt for the Persian certainly was not  _ love _ . But he could not deny Nadir’s attractiveness, the way his plump face rounded in the center where a miraculous goatee grew and of course the muscles that bulged under his traditional robes. And more importantly, Nadir had saved his life,  _ twice _ \--first in the torture chamber, and then in the cellars beneath the Opera House as they flooded (or at least, that is what Raoul could assume), and he felt because of this an unspeakable affection and gratitude towards him. All that, at least, was true. Raoul was not sure of what else, for something in his mind blocked him from delving deeper; wasn’t attraction between to men sinful? And yet, Erik was so much worse than all that, and  _ he  _ loved a  _ woman _ ...

So what could even be considered true or false?

“I know not how I feel in completion yet,” Raoul finally said. “But I do know this: I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“You must have had a terrible concussion,” Nadir mumbled, not meeting Raoul’s pleading eyes. “It has addled your brain!”

“Please, Nadir--” Raoul stopped, reaching out his injured hand and lifting the man’s chin right under his goatee so that they had to look at each other. “I am sorry that I am being straightforward,” he said. “But I have never been more serious in my life.”

Nadir was silent, although he held Raoul’s gaze this time, their eyes interlocking in a battle of wills to see who would be the victor and who would look away first. “I have nothing to live for but my retirement,” Nadir said, and Raoul watched him relax, unspooling before him. “But you, dear monsieur, you have a position, you are a part of the aristocracy. And you of all people must know how much Parisians love to talk.”

“Indeed they do,” Raoul replied, his hand moving from the tip of Nadir’s chin to rest on the side of his cheek. Raoul saw Nadir lean into his caress, perhaps against his better judgment, or perhaps not. “But,” he continued, “I think that it is perfectly possible to keep it a secret, monsieur.”

Nadir scoffed. “You may be handsome, Monsieur de Chagny--”

“Please, you may call me Raoul,” interrupted the Vicomte. “And I am charmed to think that you admit me to be handsome.”

“--but you are really quite foolish,” finished Nadir, shaking of Raoul’s touch and walking over to the window, where he pushed aside the curtains and opened the shutters. The light flooded into the room, sudden and blinding, and Raoul realized that he wasn’t sure where he was in Paris. “Of course we would hide ourselves!” Nadir said shortly, pivoting to face Raoul in one sharp movement. “But why would we even take that risk?”

“Have you ever had a life partner?” Raoul responded with a sigh, answering Nadir’s question with another of his own. Seeing the Daroga’s nonplussed expression, he continued on. “No, you have not. That is why I want this,” Raoul murmured, joining Nadir at the window. “For you and for me.”

Nadir cast his eyes down at Raoul’s proclamation, and when he spoke again, his voice was thick and slightly choked. “I have been alone my whole life,” he murmured, barely audible. “When we were stuck in Erik’s terrifying contraption, I knew that if I couldn’t save myself, I at least had to live for the man beside me. And that same feeling came over me again in the cellars after Mademoiselle Daaé turned the scorpion and unwittingly set us to drown. I had to save you...you were the only person who I could--start anew with, you see.”

“As if it were fate?” Raoul asked, leaning forward.

“I do not believe in fate,” Nadir admitted, closing his eyes. “But I do believe in new beginnings.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! i always appreciate kudos as well as comments of praise/feedback. 
> 
> I mayyyyy continue this a chapter or two more? but I'm not sure so for now i just put one chapter:) I'm @darklinas on tumblr!  
> stay safe<3


End file.
